It’s no secret that I’m a bit high strung, but I learned long ago that pharmaceuticals are not the answer for what ails me. I used to apologize for my idiosyncrasies, but the older I get—well, what would Popeye say? My friend Lynne was just here for a visit, and it was nice to have company for the last few days.
The Glass Factory School was located in Dyberry Township, in the area known since the very early days of Wayne County as the “Old Glass Factory Road” or “Coffee-Pot Road.” The latter name supposedly came from the pupils at the Glass Factory School heating their lunch beverage on the school stove.
Summer is here, and the big insect hatches of spring are just about over. For us fly fishermen, summer fishing is a much more laid-back time to fish. The choices for trout fishing are far more limited than during the cooler months, and the insect hatches are much less diverse.
Bears on the wild side
Bang! Boom! Smash! The loud racket at the front of the train car broke the tranquility of my staring peacefully out the window. It seemed that one of the duffel bags had rolled off the overhead rack, landing on the head of its owner and his three companions.
First name Amanda, last name Reed. And boy oh boy, do I owe her one.
Summer officially arrived on June 21, heralding the return of some critters we might prefer not to share our lives and regional landscape with.
Today’s title above is a somewhat esoteric reference to an old Noel Coward song that I’m fairly sure is no longer considered PC—so I won’t include any of the lyrics here (“Use the Google!” as Mom would yell); suffice it to say that the song refers to blistering heat, which caused the mercury to rise in the Upper Delaware River region over the la
I don’t mind telling you: back in January, when I got back to America from my yearlong sojourn to Europe, I was a mess, in many different ways.